


In The Days After

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne Is A Shit Parent, Family Angst, Gen, Parental Abuse, The batkids close ranks, kinda au ish, let me just rage a bit here okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: In the aftermath, a family breaks apart, and a new one comes together.AKA Bruce deserves Literal Hell for being the shittiest parent everAKA the batkids deal with the RHATO issue that shall not be named.





	In The Days After

               He didn’t even have the fucking _stones_ to stay in Gotham afterwards. He just – he _bolted_. Not even twelve hours later and he was acting like nothing had happened, standing in front of the League –

Tim wanted to punch him. Thought he might.

Bruce had fallen silent the minute Tim strode into the meeting. Tim would have liked to give him the benefit of the doubt, assume it was genuine surprise or confusion, but when every other attending member turned to look at him –

B must have known he was fucked, trying to play off Tim’s anxiety like that. Intimidate him into behaving, pretending it hadn’t happened. And – well. Tim _hadn’t_ wanted to make a scene. Keeping intimate business _quiet_ had been ingrained in him since birth. But this was – this was different. Maybe the League would hold Bruce accountable, when even his own _kids_ couldn’t.

Tim didn’t let himself falter. Didn’t let himself stop until he was in front of him.

Tim could _feel_ the League’s surprise, when he ripped off the double-R over his breast and threw it at Bruce’s face. Bruce caught it easily, but his whole body went rigid.

“I’m done. If that’s what you want to make this family into, I’m fucking done. Keep my name out of your mouth.”

“Red—”

Tim moved jerkily, damn near shaking with adrenaline, nerves. Rage. Slammed a hand into Bruce’s chest, watched as Bruce struggled to grab the offered flash-drive.

“Copies of my resignation and emancipation. I have nothing to do with you. Try and press me and I’ll make it so that you never _did_. And if you fucking _ever_ try to beat Damian – if you even fucking _think_ about hurting _any_ of my siblings again, I will fucking _end_ you.”

He could see Diana’s eyes grow wide, head snapping towards Bruce, from the corner of his eye. Tim didn’t let himself react. Just made sure Bruce actually had the drive, waited half a heartbeat for – for _something_. Anything. But Bruce didn’t say a word. Just stared, all tense. Still like stone.

“And stay the fuck away from Hood.” Tim hissed, and then spun on his heel and stalked out.

He made it through the zeta tube before crying.

It had taken exactly two hours to cut the cord, to remove any and all Wayne assets from his life. To remove his own from the Wayne name. He hadn’t heard back from Babs yet, or Dick, but Damian was downright fucking _terrified,_ and Cass had disappeared into thin air. Duke had taken one look at the footage and noped the fuck out too, headed straight for Steph’s place. She was on the fucking warpath.

All of Gotham was. Jason was special to her, to her people. It was common knowledge, that Jay was Batman’s kid. The dead bird. To see Batman just – just _snap_ like that…

He’d have a hard time controlling much of anything for a while.

And it just – he felt like he was reeling from a punch that hadn’t landed yet. It’d been so fucking _easy_ , and it was – it was irreversible. And if Bruce had even _tried_ to care about them all, wouldn’t it have been hard?

He’d been distant since his death, sure, and Tim had had a hard time even _talking_ to his family on the best of days, but – they were still something, weren’t they?

Jason had been there, though. For him, when even Dick didn’t notice. And _fuck Bruce_ if he thought Jason was wrong. If it was just the killing – and it _wasn’t_ , not at all, Tim _knew_ that – then fuck that, too. Tim wouldn’t do it. Didn’t mean he thought Jason was wrong.

When he dropped in through Roy’s window, the man nearly blew his head off with one of Jason’s guns. It was only his unfamiliarity with the weapon, Tim knew – Jason had built those things by hand, treasured them more than his own life – that saved him.

“If you’re – “

“He’s alright?” Tim asked, and Roy’s mouth snapped shut.

His expression stayed hard, sharp. Hurt, wary. Tim was still crying, though, and he softened after a moment.

“Took a bad beating. Like – I ain’t never seen the Bat lose control, but this was…he’ll live, though. Take a bit until he’s fit to go out. You clean, RR?” The last was said pointedly, Roy jabbing a finger at his chest. At where his insignia would’ve been. Roy seemed to realize its absence then, and he froze.

“That’s not – I – not a Bat anymore.” Tim managed, and Roy’s eyes got _huge_. Tim started crying again. Wanted to say he didn’t regret it, but he was still so damn _scared_ and he’d just fucking bitched out the _Batman_ and his brother was—

“O—okay. C’mon. You can crash here for the night, Jesus, holy fuck kid it’ll be fine. I’ll – “

Roy looped one arm around Tim’s shoulders and pulled him towards a small, dimly lit bathroom.

“I’ll getcha a change of clothes. I’ll be in the living room if you need it.”

Tim rubbed at his eyes, nodded, and tried not to shrink in on himself visibly. Roy sighed.

“I’ve got a call to make.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cassandra got there too late, and curled into a ball and _cried_ when she realized both Jason and Batman were missing.

She could see bits of her brother’s helmet, shattered on the ground. Blood splatters, a snapped line. Debris from whatever Jason had been trying to _stop_ from hitting Gotham.

_“He’s safe, Orphan. Arsenal showed up, got him out. I’ve diverted B from their trail.”_

Barbara’s voice nearly made her keen, made her turn and seek out the comfort of her sister’s presence. But it was just an echo of her, a whisper in Cassandra’s ear.

_“I cannot fucking_ believe _he brought up Kate.”_ Barbara added, tone low. Deadly. She was beyond furious, if the use of a name on the comm line was any indication.

Cass imagined the way her shoulders would tense, the way her jaw would tighten, and forced herself back to her feet.

She thought back to the last time she’d seen Jason, the nervous fear in his fists and the panic in the curve of his mouth when he’d thought Batman had come with her. The fright that had chased each rise and fall of his chest, even after he had relaxed.

All he’d ever wanted was a family.

“I…stand.” Cass whispered, and curled one hand over the symbol spread across her chest.

She did not mourn Cobblepot’s death. She could see the horror, the pain in Jason’s body when he pulled the trigger – and Jason had _never_ lied about what he stood for, who he stood for.

And she’d seen the hypocrisy in Batman’s body.

She went back to the Cave. It was silent, empty when she stepped inside. Felt _hollow_ , and she stared at the lockers, at Jason’s – at a spare suit, a few spare blades and projectiles scattered across the floor, the door hanging by a single, cracked hinge. His spare helmet had been shattered. She picked one of his knives up, squeezed her fingers around the handle, and looked back at the batsuits lined up shoulder-to-shoulder to her right. And she got to work.

He returned, sometime after she’d finished. After she’d piled the cut bat symbols in front of the computer, and packed all of Jason’s things, all of her own and all of Stephanie’s, into a spare duffel bag. He stepped out of the batmobile and just… _stared_.

He swayed a little, when she walked up and resolutely cut the bat off his armor.

“I thought you said Batman didn’t kill.” He finally grit out, and there was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. Cassandra had slapped him before she knew what she was doing. The noise echoed throughout the Cave, cracked whatever calm she’d pulled around herself.

“I…wrong. Cost…hurt _children_ , wrong.”

“He is a _criminal_.”

“Twenty. _Twenty_. Child.” Cass hissed back, and jabbed a finger into the gaping hole on his chest. Tears streamed down her face, blurred her vision, and she yanked off her mask, tossed it on the floor.

She couldn’t even stand _looking_ at him, to see the –

He had no right mourning. _No right_.

“Least David…loved me.” She whispered, and _that –_ that wiped his fucking _hypocrisy_ from his body like a gunshot. He recoiled, so hard he stumbled back into the batmobile. Cass glared at him a moment longer, and then strode past him.

He didn’t say a word as she left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The crash of the television shattering on the ground was what finally broke her, and Stephanie collapsed into a puddle.

Her eyes were dry, which was…nice. But she still felt like she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, and she hadn’t closed the window after Tim had left – face pale, looking as sick as she felt, hands shaking.

_I don’t know what you want to do, but I know what I need to_ , he’d said. And she’d known.

She dragged herself to her feet and strode into her bedroom. Dug through her drawers until she found the bat communicator Bruce had given to her, before they’d left.

She did not particularly trust Jason. Was too afraid to let herself like him, because if he ever snapped and went after Tim again, she’d kill him herself.

 But she’d seen him change. For him to kill Cobblepot, something had to have happened to throw him over the edge. And that was…that meant it had been something _big._

And he’d been there for Tim, for…in a way only he ever could have been. He didn’t play nice, either – he was _genuine_ , around the rest of the family. Except maybe Bruce. But nobody was, with him.

Stephanie was halfway into slamming the drawer closed, when she spotted Tim’s Titan’s communicator. She grabbed it before she knew what she was doing, and powered it on.

It started a call immediately, and she sat down carefully on the edge of their bed as a holographic screen popped into existence just above the device.

“Hey, RR! Watcha— _holy fuck_ , _who are you?”_ The guy who asked was green. Beast Boy, Stephanie figured. A few other members she could attach names too began to gather over Beast Boy’s shoulders. She offered a tight smile.

She wasn’t wearing a mask or anything. Hadn’t brushed her hair either – she and Tim had been settling in for a night of Netflix, microwave popcorn and marshmallows before everything had gone to shit.

“I- I’m S…Spoiler. Tim’s…partner.”

She wondered, for a minute, if they even knew what she was talking about, when the wariness in their expressions didn’t even change. Then the screen shook, and she found herself staring at a _much_ more familiar face.

“Kon.”

“Steph? What – is Tim okay?”

“I…have you seen the news?”

Conner looked over his shoulder, and she could see the corner of a television set flash on. And she could see the _instant_ he realized what was going on. The others she could see tensed.

“ _Shit_.”

“I need you to purge Batman from any and all systems you have. Protocols involving Tim, safety procedures, backup – I would do it remotely, but that would be rude.”

“He’s…quitting?”

“I only ever put up with Batman for him. I couldn’t stand for his methods before he decided to beat his son half to death, and I sure as hell won’t stand with him now.”

She didn’t realize she meant it until she’d said it. She’d been afraid to lose herself in his shadow, seen too many similarities between Bruce and her own father. But this was…this was crossing a line. Criminal or no, murderer or no, attacking your son like that was _wrong_. And she knew Bruce well enough to know he wouldn’t ever apologize.

“What the fuck do you mean, _son?”_ Somebody asked. Stephanie chewed on her lip for a moment, and then shrugged.

“Red Hood is Tim’s older brother. He was Robin before Tim.”

“The guy who died?” A different voice asked, pitched so high it was damn near a squeak.

“So Batman just beat the shit out of his son on live television for killing a _bad guy?_ Wait – what the fuck is Tim doing?” Beat Boy’s voice demanded, and then there were a multitude of faces crowding Conner’s out. A bolt of nervousness ran down her spine – she didn’t like the scrutiny, the suspicion in their eyes. But she shrugged.

“As of right now, Tim is no longer affiliated with Batman in any way, shape, or form. If you could help make that process easier on him, I would appreciate it. And I thought you’d all want a heads up. He won’t ask you to make a similar decision, but _I_ sure as fuck will. If you care about Tim, you’ll put him first.” A couple of the people on the screen flinched.

_Damn_ , maybe she should get more in on the vigilante social life, if only to really see if the rest of Tim’s gang were actually up to snuff. Kon only had her stamp of approval because he’d known Cass, and Cassandra had seemed genuinely delighted when he’d popped back into existence – something something alternate universe, something something time fuckery, something something Steph wasn’t paid enough to care about.

“He’s really going through with it?” Kon asked, hushed. Stephanie glanced down to the bat-shaped chip in her hand, and let out a slow breath.

Thanks to prior experience, she knew the thing would be impossible to break without a Literal Bomb. Or a half-kryptonian.

“Wanna help me blow up some Bat-tech?” She asked, and plastered on a bright smile.

“Be there in five.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Duke didn’t know what had happened until the next day. Red Hood killing some scum bag wasn’t news in Gotham - most of her people, those that lived on the streets and in the shadows cast by the wealthy, celebrated it. What _was_ news was Batman’s reaction.

Watching him _continue_ to beat an already down – likely unconscious – Red Hood, Duke felt sick.

He paused the recording, and shoved his phone into his pocket. He should’ve figured something was wrong when Alfred hadn’t answered the door.

He found the butler sitting at the dining table, head in his hands. He didn’t move when Duke walked in, or when Duke dropped his bag on the floor. Barely even flinched when Duke jumped up onto the table beside him.

They were silent for a moment, before Duke bit the bullet and spoke.

“Not your fault, you know.”

“I am afraid, Master Thomas, that it is.”

He blinked at that, and chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute.

“You couldn’t have known he’d go nuts like that.”

Alfred lifted his head, and Duke felt the smile he’d plastered on slip away.

“When Master Jason first returned home, he demanded that Master Bruce choose. Kill the Joker, or let him die by Master Jason’s hand.”

Duke blinked. That…made sense. He’d known _something_ had gone down between them back then, but nobody knew what. He thought Cassandra might’ve known, but that was it. Jason got twitchy whenever it was brought up, and B got even more cold than usual. All those comments though – about choosing and protecting the Joker over his own kids…that made sense now.

“Master Bruce chose to attack Master Jason that night instead. Left him badly injured in a building rigged to explode, and did not return. So, Master Thomas, I knew there was a precedent of especially violent behavior aimed at my grandson, and I still let his father hunt him down. This is on my head.” Alfred’s voice was cold, calm and measured. And he didn’t so much as blink or look away from Duke as he spoke.

Duke couldn’t maintain eye contact. He looked away, focused on the far wall.

“You wanted to believe the best in him. We all did. I’m…I get that we can’t have hard lines in this world. You’ve got to be willing to bend your morals and stuff, to keep yourself sane. But my parents always told me to know your own boundaries, and to keep firm, ‘cuz otherwise people will walk all over you. And I wouldn’t accept this behavior from _anyone_ else, so I can’t accept it from B. I think Jason was wrong. I don’t like or approve of him killing people. But I won’t support this. I’m…gonna head to Tim and Steph’s place. When this is all sorted out, I’ll come back. Tell Dami I’m leaving tonight, if he wants to come with me. And you – it’s fine that you love him, you know. You don’t have to feel guilty about that. But I think you might…I don’t know. Do what you think you have to do. And even if you blame yourself, I don’t.”

He was shaking when he finished, kicking his feet anxiously as he pressed his hands into his lap. Alfred didn’t reply, and Duke forced himself to smile as he hopped off the table. He gave Alfred a quick hug, an arm around the shoulders, and then slipped out of the dining room. The butler had not moved, and did not as he left.

First, he had to call Stephanie and make sure she’d be okay with him showing up. Then, he could worry about everything else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first time she’d seen him, after he’d come back to Gotham, he’d taken one look at her, crumpled to the ground, and cried. He’d stayed at the Clocktower with her that night, and they’d watched some of his old favorites and eaten popcorn and hugged it out. He’d been gone in the morning.

She hadn’t seen or heard much from him since, beyond the perfunctory _I’m alive, chill the fuck out_ messages required of him. He’d said he didn’t want to put her in the middle of anything. That he didn’t want to make her feel like she had to choose, because he would never ask that of her.

And Barbara had let him. She couldn’t push him, not with the fear he’d run if she tried. Just seeing him breathing and walking was – well. More than she’d ever expected, honestly. But she’d snuck into the cracks. Hacked his tech, chatted with him when he wasn’t out on business, watched over him with a kind of intensity she didn’t even monitor Dick with.

So – Bruce had chosen to turn his back on his son. Again. Barbara had chosen to protect her brother.

She knew Jason hated himself. Knew he’d hate himself more after this. Not for killing the Penguin, but for shattering whatever he’d thought he and Bruce had. Knew he’d expect her, the rest of the family, to take Bruce’s side. And she couldn’t help but feel like she’d failed him, because of that.

She sighed, tapped a few keys idly, and redirected Jason’s signal again. All of his safehouses, all of his tech – she was scattering the signals across the globe, making no attempt to hide what she was doing. They’d never find him, not with circuits and electricity at least.

A purple light blinked on at the edge of her vision, and Barbara turned to stare at a much smaller screen.

Bruce was waiting at the Clocktower’s entrance, hand fisted above the call button. He looked like shit, dark bruises under his eyes and hair mussed, lines carved deep into his face. He was even wearing sweats, ugly grey things stamped with a faded logo she couldn’t read.

Kate had called her earlier. She’d looked spooked, horrified. _Why’d he do it_ , she’d asked, _why’d he not do that to me?_

Barbara killed her monitors, sending a backup key to Tim if anything happened, and let him in. She slapped her electric kettle on while she waited for the elevator, and pulled out a pair of mugs. She had the tea steeping when the doors slid open and Bruce shuffled out. He stared at her for a moment, blinking, and then dipped his head in thanks. She tilted her head towards a spare chair, and waited until he was comfortable. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say. What she was going to do.

He looked even more tired in person. Looked _sad_ , too, as he stared at her. When she met his gaze, his eyes dropped to the floor.

“I need you to stop.” Bruce finally rasped, and Barbara actually, literally bristled. She forced herself to breathe, before pushing a mug over to him.

“When Kate killed Clayface, Cass cried for _days_.”

“That was different.”

“Mmm. What was it you told him? There were _cameras_? It was public?’

“Batman doesn’t kill.”

“As long as it’s not his son, apparently.” Barbara snapped back, and Bruce’s whole body jerked. Some tea splashed out, soaked his sweatpants and splattered across the scars on his knuckles. She handed him a towel, watched him blot at the mess.

“Damian still has nightmares that he’ll slip up one day. That you’ll brand him a criminal and throw him in Arkham just like his older brother. What do you think Jason dreams of? What do you think Dami will dream of _now?_ ” She asked, softly.

“I would never hurt him.”

“You already _have_.”

Bruce put the towel down with a little more force than necessary. He didn’t let go of it, just kept gripping it so tightly Barbara half expected the cheap fabric to rip.

“I don’t…hate him.” Bruce finally rasped, and Barbara closed her eyes.

“I don’t know if you’re lying to me, or yourself.”

They fell into silence, then. The soft whir of fans and hum of machinery swallowed up anything she could have said, anything he could have said.

Barbara was used to tense meetings with Bruce, used to finding herself struggling for the words she needed and being left frustrated and angry when he wouldn’t give her a chance to _speak_. To have him sitting so quietly across from her was…unnerving.

“If you make Dick choose, I will never forgive you.”

“All I need is his location, Barbara. This can all be over by tomorrow.” He seemed to relax a little as he spoke, as if her words had been some kind of concession, and Barabra very deliberately put her hands in her lap. If she didn’t, she was afraid she’d throw her own mug at him.

“I will not help you hunt down the son you just beat half to death. And if you try to use the League’s resources to find him, I will crash the Watchtower.”

He stiffened, expression hardening. She smiled, brittle and sharp.

“Jason made no attempt to hide his issues with you from the city, and the city just watched you assault him. Watched a father assault a son. You claim Batman can’t kill because the people need to see you as a bastion of hope. I don’t know about you, but domestic abuse doesn’t exactly scream _hope_ to me.”

“That is _not_ what happened!” He snarled, and finally, _finally_ , shot to his feet, fists clenched at his sides and rage in his eyes.

“Then explain it to me! What the _fuck_ made you think any of that was okay?!”

“I have given him chance after chance to be a part of this family! He _knew_ the rules! He made the decision to _murder a man in cold blood_ , and he made the decision to deal with the consequences! If he can’t listen then he has _no part_ in this family! This is on _him—_ ”

A flicker of movement caught her attention, cut Bruce off mid-rant. Cassandra, wearing a baggy t-shirt and spandex, hair mussed, face red and creased with tears.

_“Out.”_ She hissed, and Bruce’s jaw clenched. Barbara thought he would argue with Cassandra, argue with her, but he just spun on his heel and turned to the elevator’s entrance, eyes spitting rage and betrayal.

“If _that’s_ your excuse, it’s no wonder why Selina left.” Barbara said, before she could stop herself. And – well, she’d regret it later. Almost regretted it then, when Bruce froze, his entire body seizing like he’d been shot.

“I did what I had to do. And I will _continue_ doing so to until Gotham is _safe_.” He finally growled out, but he sounded almost breathless. She thought he might’ve been crying.

“ _Not Bat.”_ Cass literally _growled_ back. Bruce reached for something, hand clenching at the air at his hip. His cape, maybe, thinking he was in armor or ready to take on one of his Rogues.

“You might want to reflect on what kind of father you are, that you consider your son more of an enemy than the monster that killed him.” Barbara said, and it took every bit of self-control she possessed to keep her tone mild, voice calm.

The elevator doors opened then, a miracle in its own right, and Bruce stepped in without another word.

“Can I?” Cass rasped, once he was gone. Before Barbara could even nod, she’d darted off into the kitchen.

She’d seen all three of the bugs he’d planted – one on the back of his chair, one on the underside of the table, a third on the towel – but just to be safe, she let Cass take a blowtorch to everything. Cassandra enjoyed it, actually _smiled_ , and – well.

They weren’t going to take chances with Jason’s safety.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Damian clutched Alfred a little too tightly as he slid past Jon’s window, and the cat let out a grumpy _mff_ and slipped out of his arms, launching himself onto Jon’s bed. Damian would’ve followed, if Jon hadn’t bolted up with a screech loud enough to wake the dead.

“D—Dami? What the _heck_ are you doing?! What time even is it?!”

Damian froze, still leaning back against the window sill, and to his utter horror he found himself letting out a high-pitched squeak, the kind he’d heard too many cowering children make as he and Batman pulled their attackers away.

“I – can I stay here? Just for –“

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Jon crawled out of bed as he spoke, and he looked genuinely concerned. Especially when, upon reaching out, Damian instinctively flinched back.

“You don’t even gotta ask, you know. Let me just –“ Jon began, voice so soft Damian could barely hear him, and his eyes started to sting.

He _hated_ this. Hated this weakness, the sudden _fear_ in his bones. He shouldn’t be afraid. Not of Father.

And then Jon’s door swung open, light from the hall beyond spilling in, and Lois Lane stood in the doorway clutching a baseball bat in her hands.

“ _Fuck_ , Damian? Jon? What is going on? Are – are you okay, honey?”

And as if on cue, Damian burst into tears.

Jon kept asking what had happened, even as he swept Damian up into a hug. Lois stayed frighteningly silent, though she reached out and pulled both boys close anyway, the bat laying discarded on the floor.

“You can stay here, baby, for as long as you need.” Lois said softly, stroking his hair back from his face.

He’d come in civvies, left the mask and cape back home. Been too frightened to touch it, too frightened to dare enter the Cave. That was Batman’s territory, after all. He’d wanted to bring Titus, but Titus had been with Pennyworth, and Alfred had already been in his arms, and – well. Damian had just _run._

He said as much, in short little bursts. That he’d never been so scared before. Todd was kind of a dick, but that was –

Lois’ expression went hard, cold and sharp and for a moment Damian thought he’d said something wrong and was _terrified_ he’d fucked _this_ up too – but then she just held him closer, and told him it would be alright. And she’d never lied before, so Damian did his best to believe her.

When he finally managed to stop crying, Jon got up and left the room. Alfred wandered over, let out a soft purr and threw himself against Damian, and he smiled a little. Lois hadn’t let go of him, only readjusted her arms so she could pet the cat.

“I’m sorry, Damian. That you had to see that. That it even _happened_. I promise you, nothing in the _world_ could have justified what your father did. Doesn’t matter what kind of trouble your brother gets himself into – that is not how a parent acts. And if he ever tries to raise a hand against you, I promise you, baby, I _will_ destroy him.”

She said it so gently, so pleasantly.

“He’s _Batman_.”

“And I’m _Lois Lane_. You think I don’t have enough evidence to out your father, and the connections to make charges _stick?”_ There was a smile in her voice, and Damian couldn’t help the twitch of his mouth in response.

He believed her. _Really_ believed her, too. That she would keep him safe. Not because of Jon or because she was married to Superman – just because she _could_ , and _would_.

“I don’t understand. Todd wasn’t – I don’t understand why he did it, though. Killed Penguin. He knew it would set Father off.” He whispered, and tried to keep his voice steady. But he was tired – it had been a long trip from Gotham, even with a zeta tube involved – and had just finished crying.

She was quiet for a moment, smoothing his hair back from his face, and then sighed.

“I…might know. If you _really_ want to know. But it doesn’t…make your dad look the best, okay?”

“Like this _has?”_

She smiled, when he looked at her, but it was tense and sad.

“I know what it’s like to hear other people say bad things about your parents, sweetie. Whether they are true or not, it still hurts, and it still affects you. So – relax with Jon tonight, okay? And if you still want to, in the morning, I’ll show you.”

He mulled over that for a long moment. Jon came back in holding a trio of those multi-colored popsicles he liked so much. Damian made himself sit up straight, and pull out of Lois’ embrace before accepting one.

“Okay.” He whispered, and Alfred the Cat curled up on his lap. She smiled at him, gently.

“Alright. Finish your popsicles and go to bed, boys. We’ll see if dad’ll make breakfast in the morning, okay? I’m going to call Alfred the Butler to let him know where you are, Dami. Is that alright?”

He hesitated for a moment, but the thought of not letting Pennyworth know was…Damian didn’t want to upset the butler. Not more than he already had – he’d refused Thomas’ offer, and holed up in his bedroom until it had gotten dark. And then he’d heard someone in the hall, and he’d panicked. He didn’t want to see his father. Wasn’t sure what he’d do if he did. So he’d grabbed Alfred and ran.

When he nodded, Jon relaxed – slumped back against the foot of his bed, and sighed. Lois rubbed a hand on Damian’s back, whispered an _okay,_ and stood up.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the living room.”

Lois kissed them both on the forehead and closed the window before leaving. To his credit, Jon didn’t say anything until she’d closed his bedroom door behind her. _Then_ he launched himself at Damian.

As always, Damian had a hard time dealing with it. In part because of the cat in his lap – who was _not happy_ about a half-kryptonian boy on top of him – but in part because Jon was just…genuinely trying to _comfort_ him. And Damian was relatively sure Jon had no idea what was going on.

“It’ll be okay, you know. Mom’ll help figure it out in no time!” Jon said anyway, and Dami’s eyes stung. He let his head fall against Jon’s shoulder, and sighed.

“Mother texted me. She asked me if I was okay.” His popsicle was melting, by the time the confession fell from his lips. Jon’s was long gone, and Damian was just staring at his own cold, sticky hands. Jon stilled against him.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

_Because that meant Father had_ scared _her._

“Because Grayson didn’t.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dick had never dealt well with inaction. This was no different.

He’d watched the broadcast. Spent the rest of the night sick to his stomach, relieved at Roy’s appearance, angry over the way Bruce had just… _lost control_ , but…

Jason had known. Been told time and time again what the consequences of killing again would be, and he’d made that decision fully aware of that. Dick _knew_ that. But he wasn’t sure he was okay with the outcome, regardless.

And Roy fucking _refused_ to let Dick know where he’d taken Jason, or if Jason was okay, and Dick hadn’t been able to stop pacing for three hours.

He’d called Kori. Or, tried her old communicator. A purple-haired woman who was definitely _not_ Kori had answered, taken one look at him, and sneered. Then hung up.

He _wanted_ to call Wally, but the thought of having to explain what the fuck had happened, what was going on was – it was too much. He just needed to know Jason was _alright_.

A knock at his window had him tripping over his coffee table as he spun around. By the time he’d righted himself, his visitor was already sliding the window shut behind them.

Stephanie. All decked out in her Spoiler gear.

“Are you – are you okay?”

“B isn’t here, is he?”

“No. Why, is – did something happen?” Dick scrambled over to her, grabbing her wrist in his panic. She ripped it out of his grip, and stepped back, and that – that made him freeze.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, struggled with the panic flaring up his throat. Stephanie scowled at him, and folded her arms over her chest.

“Have you spoken to him, since – since what happened with Jason?” She asked, voice pitched low and eyes glued on the floor.

“No. Is – I haven’t heard from _anybody_ since. Do I need to – Steph, you’re _really_ not helping me in the _don’t freak out_ department.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you – what do you mean?” Dick whispered.

“What are you going to do about your father beating your baby brother so badly he’s in a fucking _coma?_ ” Stephanie snapped, and Dick felt the blood drain from his face.

“He’s – “

“Roy says he hasn’t woken up yet. He can’t call in any favors without B finding out where they are. Tim’s helping as best he can, but who knows.”

He reached out behind him and sank onto the couch slowly, tearing his gaze away from her.

“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue. And I won’t put him at risk by checking, not with B trying to drag him to Arkham.”

“Sp—Steph, he murdered a man. B told him what the cost would be, and he did it anyway. He knew the consequences his decision would have when he made it. Arkham’s…it’s what’s best—”

“Don’t you fucking _dare!_ If B wanted to get him _help_ , he had fucking _years_ to do it. He had an opportunity to fucking _talk_ to Jason instead of _beating him_ – like that would _help him?_ ”

Dick looked away.

“If this wasn’t _us_ , if this was just some family you found killing each other on the streets, you _know_ what you’d do. And if you can’t hold your own fucking _father_ to that standard – well, hell. Looks like there’s something I can do better than a Bat.”

That…hurt. Physically. She flinched, when she saw the expression on his face, but –

“Until you prove to me that you give a shit about your brother, I can’t apologize. And I won’t – you don’t get to talk to Tim about this either. Bruce is already…anyway.”

She closed her eyes, for a moment, and Dick just…stared.

Jason was…

And what if he never woke up? Sometimes – it felt like Dick had _just_ gotten him back, and _just_ realized he’d still never – Jason was still a stranger, in so many ways, and he’d been just as bad this time around as he had the first time—

What if he never got a chance to make up for that? What if he’d just…waited, and pushed it off, and now he’d never be able to?

And Bruce – _god,_ that was…what he’d done…

Dimly, he realized Stephanie had left.

Dick put his head in his hands and cried.

**Author's Note:**

> (This was supposed to come out earlier lmao but oh well)  
> So yeah B can suck a cactus and I know the comics are gonna gloss over all of Jason’s siblings’ reaction to what the fuck went down so HERE I AM FIXING THAT. HAVE SOME SUPPORTIVE FAMILY GODDAMMIT  
> I think that when Damian came in, Jason would’ve 110% been in Tim’s corner. Like, helping him with the trauma of that.   
> Cass and him share SO FUCKING MUCH IN COMMON and I cannot see her ever ever ever abandoning her siblings/siding against them no matter what the fuck happened. She let her brother, who she had genuinely never met, outright kill her. And after the whole Basil/Kate debacle, this would hit her fucking hard. Also she’s the favorite so I totally believe she could get away with more than the rest w/much less backlash.
> 
> B’s a dick to Steph anyway so fuck him. Duke I haven’t actually read much of, besides some of his interactions with Damian, so maybe a little ooc but I see him as an outsider coming into the shitshow of Bat drama and having hard lines – being able to call out Bruce for his faults and focus on doing what he believes is best for the city/helping others rather than being loyal to the Batman mythos/figure. And Barbara is a whole grown ass adult who has no time for B’s bullshit.
> 
> I feel like this is/should hit Damian really fucking hard though. Jason steps out of line and the response is so fucking vicious. Like Cass’ problems with Kate, this CLEARLY WILL FUCK UP YOUR OTHER CHILDREN, and Damian already has issues emoting/trusting Bruce. That’s twice in a relatively short period of time (right?) that B’s backed up somebody attacking/killing a former criminal for a single slip-up, when so many of his kids are former criminals.  
> Dick is actually one I see having the worst time of it bc he’d try so hard to rugsweep. I think he’ll take Bruce’s side, even if he doesn’t agree with it. He’s stuck through all the rest of bruce’s bullshit, he’ll stick through this too.


End file.
